Life After Death – Pindar – Remembrance Day

Life after Death

For them the sun shines ever in full might
Throughout our earthly night;
There, reddening with the rose, their paradise,
A fair green pleasance, lies,
Cool beneath shade of incense-bearing trees,
And rich with golden fruit:
And there they take their pleasure as they will,
In chariot-race, or young-limbed exercise
In wrestling, at the game of tables these,
And those with harp or lute:
And blissful where they dwell, beside them still
Dwells at full bloom perfect felicity:
And spreading delicately
Over the lovely region everywhere
Fragrance in the air
Floats from high altars where the fire is dense
With perfumed frankincense
Burned for the glory of Heaven continually.

Pindar – Greek lyric poet (c. 522 – c. 443 BC)

Translated by Walter Headlamhttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walter_George_Headlam

It is Remembrance Day today and we remember the many that suffered in the first World War. You may think this poem  is an unusual choice for this day. However, I intend reading my poem ‘The Fragrance at Flanders’ at a special University of the Third Age event to mark Remembrance Day followed by the above where ‘fragrance’  is also featured. It’s just that I think it would be nice (or poetic) if those that suffer greatly in life – those that never really have a life – have some sort of justice in an after-life – that is if of course there is an after-life.

And the first two lines of the poem remind me of those well known words … ‘they do not grow old as we that are left go old’.

I am, of course, using Pindar’s words thinking of war heroes but they were written in relation to the great sporting heroes of his day …

From Wikipedia … Almost all Pindar’s victory  odes are celebrations of triumphs gained by competitors in Panhellenic festivals such as the Olympian Games. The establishment of these athletic and musical festivals was among the greatest achievements of the Greek aristocracies. Even in the 5th century, when there was an increased tendency towards professionalism, they were predominantly aristocratic assemblies, reflecting the expense and leisure needed to attend such events either as a competitor or spectator. Attendance was an opportunity for display and self-promotion, and the prestige of victory, requiring commitment in time and/or wealth, went far beyond anything that accrues to athletic victories today, even in spite of the modern preoccupation with sport

Incidentally, Samuel Johnson (1709 – 1784) who started to compile a dictionary of English usage many years ago had a wonderful definition of ‘Justice’ – ‘the virtue by which we give every man what is his due’. Of course there is no such thing as justice in this life – but the after-life is another matter.

Even if you don’t believe in God or a creator with affinity for humanity it’s nice to create one in the mind, especially one capable of giving some form of justice to those that have suffered unduly.

Link – http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pindar#Values_and_beliefs

And here is a bugle playing of The Last Post’ courtesy of You-Tube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=McCDWYgVyps

Only Two Lips – A Spring Poem

Floriade is the name of the  spring flower festival in Canberra in the Commonwealth Gardens near the centre of the city. Mainly a showing of bulbs including of course tulips. It is quite a tourist attraction and many come to Canberra to see the displays.

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The U3A ‘Arts’ Exhibition had a theme of tulips, poppies and spring. I wrote the following poem for the opening day (see the previous post) …

Tulips in a vase, focus on flower in foreground

Only Two Lips

who do you think you are
standing so pert and penal
asserting yourself in rich colour
arrogant, obvious
demanding my attention

well I’m not falling for it!
such a brazen showing
with your closed-mouth talk
I will give you what you deserve –
lip service, and just you wait

your day will come
believe me, you will bend
becoming quite dishevelled
falling to kiss the ground
in total disarray

Richard Scutter  2 August 2014

It is always very interesting when you read a poem in public because you never quite know what reception will follow. The audience was mainly  women and  in the older bracket, so that was appropriate. A few realized that I was not actually talking about tulips so much and there were a couple of wry smiles – which was encouraging!

There were a few hangups on the word ‘penal’. Well penal = punishing – and from a male perspective the beautiful can be quite punishing in many ways especially when young, ‘manipulative’ and of a demanding nature.

A White Blank Wall – A poem in a public place

A White Blank Wall

Ask any latrine a white blank wall
is a blackboard waiting to happen
an unwritten open invitation
saying plenty by saying nothing
just patiently waiting in expectation –
waiting for that certain type of person
the sort of person who instinctively
wants to leave his or her mark

unlike the wet concrete scene
time is always on its side
believe me it will happen
just mark my words!
you will come in one day and –
no surprise, no surprise, I told you so

if you’re pissed-off that’s another matter!

Anonymous – of course

Context – Our U3A Poetry Group is currently in the process of working on a Spring exhibition of poetry at our local community hub. The exhibition is in association with the U3A Art Group. In the lead-up we have been displaying poems throughout the community building apart from a dedicated noticeboard – including placing poems in the toilets.

You would not believe it but one very nice framed poem was stolen from the toilet area. The above was written as my poetic response and I am happy to report that to-date it still adorns the toilet wall.

Apparently displaying poetry in public places has a name – ‘poem bombing’.

CookToiletPoem

Yesterday and Today

Yesterday and Today

Yesterday God decided to take a holiday
and I really can’t blame him at all, I mean
he must have been a little disappointed
with one of his projects going a little off track,
and working twenty-four by seven over the
centuries is, I imagine, quite demanding.
I am sure God knows where to go for a break
and I am sure he won’t want us to turn up!

Today is a little different, I’m happy to report that
the sun is breaking through threatening clouds and
the waste-paper bin is empty, sprawled out on
his desk are the original drawings, a little crumpled,
maybe he believes things can be straightened out –
perhaps he has far more faith than you or I.

Richard Scutter 20 July 2014

The news of late has been so sickening and I have felt physically sick inside. Goodness knows  how others feel that are immediately affected by the inhumanity in whatever country. I just had to get out into fresh air and wash the mind from the media concentration on the horrific events fracturing the world.

We went for a walk on part of the Canberra Centenary Trail. It was a typical beautiful winter sky after night temperatures below freezing and then sunshine all day. Perfect conditions for bushwalking although you had to be careful because the track was quite slippery after recent rains and the melting of icy mud. The image below is from the Red Rocks Lookout along the Murrumbidgee river between Kambah Pool and Tuggeranong Town Centre, Canberra.

RedRockLookOut

And here is a link to a poem by W. H. Auden in relation to suffering.

Winter Sea – Caseys Beach

WinterSeaCaseysBeach

Caseys Beach, Batehaven – South Coast of New South Wales

Winter Sea – Caseys Beach

applique on applique of dulling light
washes the bland sky-sea merge
into an ever increasing dark

spates of seaweed disgorge a thick edge
the lonely remnants of empty days
the late afternoon drifts to an early close

finally the beach is lost of light
but an intermittent sigh continues
like a sallow woman refusing death

across the road homes define
as lights increase in intensity and number
respite to the night-wrapped street

Richard Scutter 26 June 2014

The Fragrance at Flanders – Anzac Day 2014

The Fragrance at Flanders

This was not scented Alps
where nothing but the daylight changes,
nor descending by the Starnberger See
after early exercise, strolling into
the Hofgarten to drink coffee with friends
as unbridled talk merges
with the expanse of morning.

Nor was this a plunge
into a Bloomsbury morning
of Clarissa opening French windows
to the breath of a summer day. Nor a
blackbird singing in the daze of early light,
or the buying of flowers while thoughts distract
to the arrangement of a party.

At Flanders, in the half-born morning
body after body fell
indiscriminately into the mud.
Each man glad to take their final leave,
exuding a common stench
until it accumulated in a message
that couldn’t be ignored.

For a brief moment
there was a lull in the fighting
as the men were buried.
And for once there was a sensitivity
as if Christ had walked out of dead flesh
to bring together both sides –
or just nature self-correcting.

Richard Scutter 25 April 2011

Context … OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

… and here is a link to another poem

Some Easter Words

Easter Sunday

The world is charged with the grandeur of God … Gerard Manley Hopkins
… – …
pure gold in blue sky
beauty of this risen day
touches all creation
… – …
Christmas is the birth
Easter – a life-time project ends
in non-ending life
… – …

Easter – the marriage of humanity and divinity through Jesus based on unconditional love.
love does not alter when alteration finds … Shakespeare Sonnet 116

Celebrate LIFE … shockingly beautiful.

 Enjoy today – Every day.

from last year

 … And a link to the personal poem ‘Infinite Glory’ … an alternative title to this poem –  ‘I let your beauty’ depending on the secular/non-secular perspective.

Digesting the Seasons

Digesting the Seasons

early morning walk
breakfast windows opened wide
the day glistening
daffodils dance in the breeze
a buzz of expectation

— *** —

a luncheon party
ham-salad and fruit in the shade
‘a dry white anyone?’
the ceiling-fan slices still air
distant hills shudder the heat

— *** —

afternoon tea-time
shadows stretch across the grass
crockery clatter
children can play another hour
while adults chatter at the tables

— *** —

a steel-blue frost sky
foot-crunch ground with coat and glove
the home-fire ablaze
an oven-dinner cooking
warmth fills the night-wrapped room

Richard Scutter 7 April 2014